Competition
by LittleMissMorbid
Summary: There's a new girl at school, and Derek's got some competition. Dasey, f/f COMPLETE. thanks, phoebe p. and Paigey!
1. New Girl

A oneshot; not the best, sort of clichéd, but still cute.

Involves femslash. Don't like, don't read.

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It was September fourteenth—Derek had barely made a dent into the school year. That alone was enough to make him scowl. Kendra's appearance beside him—while not entirely detested, they were friends after all—didn't help matters.

"Derek," Kendra began, and her voice made him pay attention to her.

The blonde stopped, and he stopped with her, cringing at her deep-set frown and blazing eyes. He knew that look. That was Jealous Kendra. And Jealous Kendra was not one to be taken lightly.

"You need to flirt with the new girl. And you need to make sure she stays _away _from Trevor."

Derek rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm sure you're overreacting. And I don't date freaks."

"_Overreacting?" _said Kendra viciously; the apple in her hand leaking as she held it in a death grip, _"Overreacting would be taking that fake-pale head of hers and __**ripping **__it off!" _

The apple squirted all over her shirt and she huffed, throwing it on the ground.

Derek wisely chose not to comment.

"Get rid of her, Derek. You're the only one who can do this."

And before he could say a word, she tilted her lips into a cheery smile, giving him a sideways hug before skipping away.

Derek shuddered. Kendra needed medication.

As Derek trudged to History class (he was debating on whether to skip class or not) the new girl was headed in his direction.

She didn't even _look _at him as she tinkered with her locker. He stopped, turned around. Put a charming smile on.

"Hey," Derek began.

She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. Her lips tilted into a smirk and she put one hand on her hip.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking positively _tickled _at his segue into a conversation.

"_I _think we should go out." He said, just as confidently.

Cue eyebrow raise. She pursed her lips, drawing attention to the two piercings on her lower lip. She had jet black hair, golden eyes and a figure somewhere underneath the baggy jeans and unbuttoned boy's polo. Her tank top underneath the white polo revealed a small waist, and a petite frame.

"How about—" she began, and was cut off by a shrill voice.

"_De-rek Venturi!" _cried Casey, who was on her way from the bathroom, "_Go to class, you idiot!"_

Casey stopped at his side and shot him a glare, whilst lecturing him on the value of education. Derek shoved her away—he ignored her huff—and returned his attention onto the girl in front of him.

She raised her left brow, and it glinted in the light—what was _up _with all the piercings?

"Who was that?" she asked, a glint in her eyes.

"My loser stepsister." Derek said offhandedly.

"I think I'll accept your proposition for a date, Mr. Venturi."

They traded house and phone info, and she left, hiding a smirk.

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Paulie Landar was a very odd girl, decided Derek. She'd accepted his date, but she had one condition—to have it at his place.

Derek readily agreed, realizing he wouldn't have to fake interest in her as much if she was distracted by the other members of their family.

Nora grumbled at the thought of a stranger at dinner—she'd had her share of bimbos—but couldn't say no, and set an extra plate.

When the clock struck five, Paulie rand the doorbell seconds after.

"Hey, dude." stated Paulie, when Derek answered the door.

_Dude? _What was she, a _guy?_ Girls were supposed to giggle and become all airheaded around him, not brush past him to get into the house and call him _dude._

His date settled in very nicely at dinner, he noted. As the bread rolls were being passed around, Casey came down the stairs, hair up, makeup off.

"Hey, guys."

"Hey, freak." mumbled Derek.

"Don't call her that!"

Everyone stared at their houseguest in surprise.

"It's not nice," the dark-haired girl finished lamely.

There was a silence after that.

So, of course, Nora had to comment on her facial jewelry.

"How old are you?" asked George, sizing her up on the delinquent scale.

"Seventeen," answered Paulie, after slurping a particularly long noodle.

"Do you like the color purple?" asked Marti loudly.

Paulie smiled. "Of course I like the color purple. Who doesn't like purple?"

"Smerek says it's girly."

Paulie smirked, raising a brow. She shot him a glance. "Well, if a guy who insists on being called _Smerek _doesn't like purple, than he has some issues, don't you think?"

"Major ones," added Casey dryly.

"Since when was it Beat-on-Derek Day?" Derek grumbled.

"Did we get the day wrong? Sorry, let's reschedule. It's not painful enough for him, guys."

"I only asked you out because of Kendra, you know." Said Derek snidely.

"Figures. That is one high-strung girl." Paulie murmured coolly.

Casey smirked, and it wasn't unnoticed by Paulie.

"So, Casey," She began, "Word is that you're a reader. What do you like to read?"

How did she know Casey's name? She wasn't supposed to know Casey's name! Hell, Casey was supposed to be glaring at his date right now, not falling hook, line, and _sinker _for some lame segue like "What kind books do you read?"; _he _could have done better than that!

Then it hit him. Paulie wasn't on a date with _him. _

Paulie was on a date with _Casey._

He suddenly wasn't very hungry anymore, and simply glared at the girl next to him as she began to talk about _Catcher in the Rye._

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"…Nobody ever gets the symbolism, Casey. Most kids our age are stupid and undernourished." Paulie sighed, leaning against the mattress, Casey sitting crosslegged parallel to her.

Casey stayed silent for a moment, and the other girl took the chance to drink her in—the blue eyes, the toned stomach, the _amazing _legs. Well, she was guessing, mostly—Casey was wearing jeans and a tanktop. But _damn, _what she wouldn't do to see that girl in a bikini.

"I didn't think you'd be into books like me," Casey murmured, and a small smile tilted her lips, "I'm glad one of Derek's dates finally has a brain,"

Paulie laughed. "I'm not on a date with him. Do you see him anywhere? I'm with _you _right now."

Casey wasn't sure what to make of that comment, and the confusion was evident in her eyes. So Paulie hastily changed the subject. "What's the story with him, anyway?"

Casey's eyes lit up at that—any chance to vent about Derek would never slip away—and she began her rant.

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"Why would he dye your hair blue? That's so mean," Paulie muttered.

"That's Derek for you."

"He'll get a reality check, Case. Don't worry."

_Case. _She had called her _Case. _Derek, only a room away, growled at this and began pacing the floor again, not entirely sure _why _he was so angry, but either way, he did _not _like this Paulie chick at all. What kind of a name was _Paulie, _anyway?

He burst out of his room and stood in Casey's door way, eyes alight. Paulie stared him down, a familiar little mischievous twinkle in her eyes, smirk on her lips.

"Don't you have to go home or something?" Derek asked roughly, making his dislike for her apparent.

"Well, what fun is that?" Paulie asked with a little pout, "Our date isn't over yet."

Casey laughed at this. Paulie smirked at him again, and he _swore _he could see the _ha-ha, sucks for you! _in her eyes.

Paulie stretched her arms, and took a look at her watch. "Though, in all honesty," she said, "I probably should head out."

"Okay, well," Casey stoop up with her, "I'll walk you to the door."

_That girl had Casey walking __**her **__to the door? _

"Don't," Derek said sharply, "She's_ my _date."

"And I like Casey better." Said Paulie frankly, taking Casey's hand and shuffling down the stairs. Their hands stayed intertwined.

"Yeah, I know." Derek muttered darkly, to Paulie's comment.

He watched the two girls hug and make plans for lunch. Casey was having _lunch _with this freak? What was _wrong _with her?

Derek entered his bedroom and slammed the door.

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"Having lunch in the library is awesome," Paulie commented, chewing a piece of her apple thoughtfully, "Too bad we got a detention for it."

Casey frowned, twirling one strand of hair around her index finger. "I'm so grounded now."

They were both sitting outside on the concrete, enjoying the breeze and silence.

Paulie shrugged. "Just tell them you stayed late tutoring me." She was wearing a black polo today, with a white tanktop and gray jeans.

"After our chat about books, I don't think my parents will buy that."

"I can come with you." Paulie offered, "and lie for you." Casey bit her lip, still twirling a strand of her hair. _Lie?_

But she really wanted to go to that party this weekend, too…

"Okay…" she sighed, and Paulie bumped her with her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll make it good."

"Want to stay for dinner again?" Casey offered. Paulie pictured Derek's darkening face and smirked.

"I'd love to. Somehow I doubt Derek will love it, though."

"And that's what makes it _so _much sweeter." Casey supplied wickedly.

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"Um," Emily began, facing Casey timidly, "Casey, everyone's saying they saw you at lunch with the new girl."

Casey shrugged, pulling off her undershirt and heading to one of the showers, "So? She's nice."

"Casey," Emily whispered, "She's a _player._"

Casey snorted. "Paulie? A player? _Please. _She barely looked at Derek all night last night."

"Wait, you had her for dinner? Well, anyway, who do you _think _she was looking at, Casey?" Emily sighed.

A few moments later Casey grasped the hint. Her nose wrinkled with annoyance. "She's not going to hit on every female on the planet just 'cause she's _gay._"

"Whatever, Casey. Don't say I didn't warn you." Emily said, shrugging and walking away.

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Casey was still in a bad mood when Paulie's face greeted her at the Prince after school. Casey propped herself up on the hood, and Paulie did the same.

"Bad day?" Paulie asked, swinging her feet.

"You were right. Most people our age _are _stupid." Casey grunted.

"Ah. The _player _rumor, right?"

Casey turned to her, wide-eyed. Paulie shrugged. "So I made out with a few girls at a party. Big deal."

Casey turned away, not wanting the girl to see the judgment in her eyes. "No girlfriend?" Casey asked.

"Nope. Haven't found the right one yet."

"What's the right one like?"

Paulie dragged her eyes up Casey's body and sighed. "I don't know yet."

"You'll find her eventually," Casey consoled.

"I think I already have." Paulie murmured quietly, but Casey didn't hear.

"You," Derek said, with a twisted sneer, carrying his hockey stuff over one arm.

"Derek," Casey warned, and the two girls hopped off the hood, getting into the backseat of the car.

Derek glared at the unwanted visitor—and the golden eyes glared right back.

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"Are you really a player?" Casey asked quietly, when the two of them were alone in her room. They were lying on the floor, side-by-side, staring at the ceiling and letting the fan blow on them.

"Depends on your definition. I've dated a few girls, but it's never been serious."

"That's it?" Asked Casey.

"Okay, and I had a few friends-with-benefits. What's with the interrogation?"

Casey shrugged. "Sorry…"

"Don't feel bad," Paulie murmured, "it's okay if you're curious."

Somehow Casey felt like Paulie wanted her to be a bit _more _curious...

Casey noted the black long-sleeved polo shirt. "Taking that off might make you more comfortable." Casey pointed out.

"I'm more comfortable with it on," said Paulie, and she left it at that.

Nora knocked on the doorframe, holding a plate of cookies. "Figured you two would want some before the boys ate them all," she said.

"Yeah," Paulie smiled, "Thanks."

After Nora left, Casey asked no more questions and Paulie offered no more information. Her leaving was less dramatic as the night before, but Derek still tossed her a glare as she went through the door.

"Can you be _any _ruder?" hissed Casey, as she stomped up the stairs.

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"Eating outside isn't so bad," Casey said.

"Sure, if you like the smell of exhaust." Mumbled Paulie. She had…recoiled into herself since last night, and getting a word out of her was hard.

The lunch bell rang, and Paulie didn't get up with her. "Are you coming? I thought you had English next," Casey said.

"I do." Paulie tossed back lazily.

"Well…" Casey trailed off. "Don't be late, 'kay? I gotta go. See you."

"See you."

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Paulie didn't meet her after school. Derek looked pleased, and whistled the whole way home.

After dinner, Casey barged into Derek's room. "What's Paulie's number?"

Derek snorted, not taking his eyes off his computer screen for a moment, "Like I'd give it to you. What, you want to call your little girlfriend and end up tying the line for _hours_?"

"She's not my girlfriend. And just give me the damn number!"

"Sorry, Princess. You don't always get what you want."

Casey scoffed bitterly. "And you always do."

"_Now _you're getting it!" Derek said cheerfully, as she stormed out of his room.

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Paulie didn't come back for four days; it was a Monday when she showed up again, and Casey's heart skipped a beat in relief as her familiar black hair came into view.

"Gotta go, Em, bye." Casey murmured to her friend, and hurried up to catch Paulie.

"Hey," Casey said breathlessly, leaning against the lockers as Paulie fiddled with hers.

Paulie didn't say anything.

"Pauls?" Casey asked slowly, "Are you sick or something?"

Paulie cleared her throat. "No," she grabbed some books, "But I am jacked up on painkillers." The girl turned to look at her, and Casey stifled a gasp.

There was a large stitched-up wound on her forehead and a black eye. "Jesus, Paulie. What happened?"

She shrugged and smiled sardonically. "Bar fight. They were kind enough to avoid my lips," she fiddled with one of her piercings, "otherwise one of these babies would've had to be taken out. They did chip one of my teeth, though!"

"Cut the crap, Paulie. What the hell happened?"

"Football team didn't like how I was flirting with some of their girls, that's all. They didn't hit me hard or anything; I mean, if they had they could have killed me, so…"

"They didn't hit you _hard? _Paulie, you have a black eye!"

"_Case," _Paulie whined, "You're ruining my painkiller high, okay? Now, I'm not going to be at school again for the next few days. _Don't say _anything_, okay?_ Promise?"

Casey sighed, and Paulie ruffled her hair. "It'll be okay, Case. I promise."

"Why are you reassuring me when _you're _the one who got brutally maimed?!"

Paulie snorted. "I forgot how much I missed your exaggerations." She grabbed a pen and took Casey's hand, writing down a few numbers.

"Call me, 'kay?"

"Okay," Casey sighed.

Paulie pressed her lips against her cheek, but before Casey could even react, she was walking down the hall (somewhat dazedly).

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The phone rang at three, and Paulie ran to pick it up. Her mother gazed at her curiously, and upon her daughter's chirpy greeting _("Casey!")_ she sighed and returned to her soaps.

Paulie ran up the stairs to her bed, plopping down with a delusion grin on her face. She'd chalk it up to the meds if anyone asked, but Paulie knew the real reason.

"So, how are you?" Casey's tone was light. Careful.

"Better. What about you?"

"Can't complain."

The rest of the phone call was awkward (mostly on Casey's part) and ended after ten minutes. Paulie sighed, then groaned into her pillow.

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"Hey," Paulie said, on Friday, startling Casey from her book at lunch. "Shouldn't you be with Emily or something?"

Casey wrinkled her nose. "And watch her trade goo-goo eyes with Sheldon? No thanks. Aren't you supposed to be at home?"

Paulie shrugged. "I snuck out." She sat down next to Casey, pushing aside the rolled up paper bag.

Casey dog-eared her page and set the book down, hugging herself.

"So. You haven't called me." Paulie began, with her brow raised. Casey looked at her face; the eye looked less bruised and the cut wasn't as swollen.

"Yeah…" Casey trailed off, not sure what to say; she couldn't think of a good excuse.

"The kiss, right?" Paulie asked bluntly.

"Yeah, well…" Casey grew silent.

Paulie just grabbed a stick and dragged it across the concrete in front of her, distracting herself from the girl next to her.

"Do you…like me? Like that?" Casey finally asked tentatively.

Paulie released a breath. "Depends. You want the truth or a lie?"

"The truth."

"Okay," Paulie said, tossing the stick down and looking her straight in the eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I do like you like that. I think you're fucking gorgeous and brilliant and _special._"

"Oh, Paulie…" Casey whispered.

Paulie stood up, brushing off nonexistent remnants of the stick off her shirt. "I gotta go. My mom's going to wonder where I am eventually."

"Paulie…" Casey said.

"You're beginning to sound like a broken record, Case." Paulie muttered.

She stuck her hands in her pockets and strolled away.

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"You're looking worse than usual," Derek said, plopping down next to her on the couch.

Casey sighed. "What would you do if a person liked you and you didn't share the same feelings…and that person told you he liked you?"

"If it was a guy, I'd tell him I didn't swing that way and bolt the hell out of there. If it was a girl, and she was reasonably hot, I'd lie and make out with her."

"You're no help," Casey said disgustedly.

Derek smirked. "Let me guess—Paulie."

Casey just glared at the carpet.

"Sometimes you should just ignore the freaks, Casey."

"Because she's gay, she's a freak?" Casey spat out.

"_No, _because she insists on going after every straight girl, she's a freak."

"Well, maybe I'm _not _straight, Derek! Did you ever think of _that?! Maybe _I like Paulie too!_"_

Derek looked shocked, but recovered and smirked again. "No, you don't."

Casey ignored him and murmured to herself, "Maybe I like her too."

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Paulie avoided her for a week. On Friday, one week after Paulie had blurted out her feelings to Casey, she found the darker-haired girl hiding in a corner in the library.

"You can't hide for the rest of the year, you know." Casey said softly, sitting next to her.

"Yes, I can." Paulie said stubbornly. There were only fading bruises around her eye and the stitches had been removed.

"Paulie, can you come to my house after school? Please?"

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Because I miss you, you idiot."

Paulie shrugged, and kept her eyes downcast.

"Please?"

Paulie sighed. "I can't be alone with you, you know…"

"Is that a yes?"

Paulie groaned. "It's a yes."

Casey wanted to hug her, but refrained. Instead, she just smiled and said, "Good."

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"Long time no see," Nora said cheerfully, when Paulie came through the door. She dropped her messenger bag and rubbed her neck.

"Eh, yeah. Casey said she'd help me with homework."

"Well, I don't want to bother you! Go on up, girls. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."

Paulie sat on Casey's bed awkwardly, pulling books out of her bag and the worksheets she needed to finish. She spread all of her stuff out on the floor. The farther Casey was, the better.

Casey kept quiet, but it didn't stop Paulie from glancing at her and listening to her breaths.

Why had she said yes?

"The freak's here _again?_" muttered Derek, rolling his eyes, "Casey doesn't like you! Go away!"

"She doesn't like _you _either, so I don't see what you're so _high-and-mighty _about."

"I'm her stepbrother. She's required to like me a little."

"No she isn't." Paulie argued.

"Door's that way," Derek pointed down the stairs.

A pink blur intercepted both of them, and Derek was shoved into the hallway, door slammed into his face.

He blinked at her ballet poster for a moment, dazed.

Had he…_lost?_

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"I'm sorry," Casey babbled, chest heaving, "I told you he can be an asshole."

"You _told _him?" Paulie whispered.

"No, no! He just figured it out..."

She was close, too close, and Paulie could see the thin outline of her bra, the amazing legs hidden beneath the tight jeans, the soft skin at the center of her collarbone…

Slipping two slender hands against either side of the dancer's face, she pulled her close. _"I told you being alone was a bad idea." _

And their lips met.

At first, she was going to pull away. But Paulie held her close, and she found herself doing the opposite of _pulling. _

_It should be illegal for someone to be able to kiss this well_, thought Casey, _it doesn't help when you're supposedly straight and trying to figure out—_

"I'm not gay," Casey murmured softly, eyes wide, as they pulled away.

"_You're not gay." _Paulie echoed, pushing the books off the bed with one sweep of her arm.

Paulie came close again and Casey stopped her. "Wait," she said.

"Think of it as…" Paulie trailed off, a slow smirk growing on her face, _"experimenting."_

Casey looked unsure.

"It's like renting a car," Paulie explained; she walked over the books to the doorknob, where she turned the lock.

"_Just try me out."_ Paulie whispered in her ear, running a finger down her neck.

And Casey turned around, looking at her for a moment.

She let Paulie kiss her.

Pressing her to the bed, she kissed a trail down her neck, then put her fingers underneath the hem, looking Casey in the eyes.

She didn't say no.

When the final article of clothing—a pair of astonishly sexy lace underwear—came off, she didn't say no.

When she put her fingers between her soft, wet folds, and pressed her mouth against hers to stifle the cries, she didn't protest.

Only when she had climaxed did Casey finally say something, sticky with sweat.

"_How the hell did rental cars become so damn amazing?"_

Paulie laughed. "You're such a nerd."

Casey slipped on her underwear and bra, then deemed her other clothes too far out of reach.

Casey let Paulie hold her—it was the thing to do after an amazing orgasm, to cuddle—and she didn't say anything.

"How do you feel?" Paulie murmured.

"A little worried," Casey admitted.

"Why?" Paulie asked, petting her hair gently.

"You don't do commitment."

Paulie's stomach flipped. "Babe," she whispered, kissing her fingers, "I'd do commitment for _you."_

"But what if…what if we go out and I'm…too straight?" Casey fretted.

"We'll take it as slow as you want." Paulie whispered.

"I don't _know _if…I like you like _that._" Casey finally admitted.

"So, let's find out."

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is. On the plus side…" Paulie grinned devilishly, "slumber parties would be a-ok."

Casey sighed. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me. The only way you can hurt me is if you _don't try."_ She kissed her, hard, and ran her fingers up alongside her stomach. "You have the softest skin, you know that?"

To prove she _was _trying, Casey gave her a kiss.

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Paulie skipped out of the room, a smile on her face (she had to focus on not making it the _I just got the girl of my dreams _smile, and that was very, very hard).

Derek bumped into her. "_Sorry," _Derek growled.

Paulie simply patted his head, pinching his cheek, and _giggling. _

As the dark-haired girl bounded down the stairs, Derek eyed Casey. She _looked _unravished, but Casey could have easily fixed herself up.

"She just _giggled._" Derek pointed out, disbelief etched across his features.

"I know," Casey said cryptically, and walked down the stairs.

"…still have lots of homework to do, and that's why I have to stay the night," Paulie was saying very seriously on the phone. She smirked at Casey and then nodded thoughtfully at whatever the person on the other end was saying.

"You two were locked up there for a while. Are you hungry?" Casey ducked beneath her long hair, trying to hide the blush seeping into her cheeks and just nodded yes.

"Famished," Paulie said perkily, skipping to Casey's side.

Case was drinking from a water bottle as her mother called from the kitchen, "We had fish tacos."

She spat out her water, causing the contents to spray against the dinner table.

Paulie sank to her knees and laughed hysterically.

Derek, listening to the boisterous conversation from upstairs, banged his head against the wall furiously.

**/fin.**


	2. The Brawl

Another one shot.

Derek finally breaks one of his rules.

0--0

"So, what do you want to do Friday?" asked Casey, sitting at her mirror, applying the lipgloss carefully.

Paulie was on her bed, tossing one of her stuffed animals up in the air to occupy herself. Casey didn't like it when she stared at her while she was doing her makeup. Apparently she looked at her like those tigers looked at the baby zebras on the nature channel, and Casey was not too fond of being ripped apart.

"I dunno. Movie?" Paulie murmured lazily. As she spoke, she saw Casey stiffen and the look in her eyes.

Paulie lifted a brow, sitting up. "What? Sorry, I didn't know the movies was such a bad idea…"

Casey sighed, forcing a smile on her face. Paulie knew that smile. That was the smile Casey used when she was trying not to get mad and smooth things over. This smile was often times used in either her or Derek's presence. Needless to say, she had seen it many times.

"Did you forget?"

"Forget what?" Paulie asked, that familiar little ball rolling up in her stomach. She was going to get yelled at again, and there was no way in hell she could make it better.

Then it hit her.

"Oh, you mean our monthiversary, right? I'm sorry, I thought you were joking, I mean, who _really _makes up a word like…"

Casey's glare shut her up quickly, and Paulie realized that perhaps she hadn't said the right thing.

"That lipgloss looks really good on you?" Paulie said experimentally, wincing as Casey's lips turned into a frown.

"Get out," Casey yelled, standing up and literally shoving her out, "and don't bother coming by on Friday!"

The door slammed. And Paulie sighed. _Shit. _Her bag was in there.

"Casey—"

The door opened, and her messenger bag hit her squarely in the face. _Okay, maybe I deserved that, _she thought.

"Trouble in paradise?" The familiar smirk infuriated her.

Paulie scowled. Of _course _he had to come around when Casey was mad.

"Shut up," she sniped, taking the stairs. Derek followed her. in his mind, what greater joy was there to torture the girl who _took _the girl you liked from _right _under your nose—and kept rubbing it in your face? Exactly.

Nothing.

Paulie paused at the fridge, grabbing a Drumstick from the freezer and then finally stopping at the back steps, plopping down and sighing.

"Stupid Casey and her stupid 'monthiversaries'," muttered Paulie, "How the hell was I—"

Derek plopped right down next to her, a smug smile on his face.

"Please," he said, unwrapping his ice cream, "Continue."

"Don't you have girls to fuck and leave, or porn to jack off to?"

"Paulie, Paulie, Paulie. I am not simply a man—" Paulie snorted cutting him off, and he glared at her, continuing, "Like I was _saying_, I am not simply a man in which enjoys the company the female gender can provide—I also have other amazing traits."

"I think you've been paying attention in your English class, mister," mocked Paulie, waggling her finger at him, "Because that's the first vague twelfth-grade-level sentence I've _ever _heard come out of your mouth."

"Why, I'm glad I can even impress you, the flaming lesbo. You so want me."

Paulie snorted again. "Don't flatter yourself." She took a bite, shoving the rest of the cone in her mouth.

Derek wrinkled his nose. "Oh, I won't. You're way too masculine for me."

There was a long silence on Paulie's end—she could only nod and merely hope she _wouldn't _choke and be at his mercy—mainly because he wasn't entirely sure he had any sometimes.

Wiping her lips with her sleeve, and said, in a whisper—she had yet to recover from the mammoth bite she had taken—"You like her, don't you."

"Who is this _her _that you speak of?" Derek answered, avoiding the question.

"Casey, you idiot. You know, my girlfriend? You've only had it out for me since we started dating."

"Well, judging by your last conversation," he said, maliciousness in his eyes, "I'm not so sure you _are _still dating her, Pauls."

"How was _I _supposed to know she took something so stupid like a _monthiversary _seriously?!"

"She's Casey," Derek said, "She takes everything seriously. You should have just let her go on about it and been just as serious."

"Oh, please," Paulie interjected, disbelief on her face, "You would have done the _exact _same thing if you were in my position."

Derek looked at her darkly, scowling. "You're a bitch, you know that?"

"So you _do _like her," Stated the girl.

"Don't fool yourself," Derek muttered, "It's not going to last long between you two, anyway,"

"Says the guy who's only been in one serious commitment."

"I have one more than you."

"So, what, you're gonna fight me for her now?"

Derek's eyes narrowed, and he saw her lips recoil. Her eyes fired up, and she rose to her feet.

"_You're her stepbrother," _Paulie whispered venomously, _"Most people are going to cry incest, even if it isn't."_

"You're a girl," Derek answered, "It's only a matter of time before Casey wakes up and realizes youre wrong for her,"

They were inches apart now, tension heavy in the air.

"I'm not wrong for her," Paulie snarled, "You know why? 'Cause I'm _just _like you, and that's what kills you. When you see _me _with her, you see what _could have _been."

"_Fuck you." _

One feminine hand dug something out of her jean pocket. The roll of pennies sat neatly in her fist.

And Paulie swung, her fist connecting solidly with his temple. The brawl was on.

Paulie was lighter, so Derek was able to push her around more. Derek knew little about dirty fighting, though—and Paulie knew too much.

The hard contact of bone against bone drew the younger siblings out, who, upon inspection of the situation, screamed for Casey.

"_Paulie!"_

"_Derek!"_

Both teens froze, fists held up in midair, bruises growing, hair askew.

Ten minutes later, as Paulie and Derek sat on the couch, glaring at each other, Casey paced in front of them hysterically.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you?"_

Paulie and Derek exchanged looks.

"Whoa," Paulie said amusedly.

"She said _fuck_." Derek finished, an equal sense of pride growing in his chest.

But Demon Casey glared at them once, and all senses of humor and amusement were annihilated.

"She started it!" Whined Derek.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"_Both of you just __**shut up**__!_"

Clearly, some sucking up was in order. And Paulie and Derek thought of this at the same exact time.

"Paulie thinks your monthiversaries are stupid," Derek said quickly.

Paulie opened her mouth, about to spew Derek's secret desire for his stepsister. And she closed it. She couldn't tell.

If he'd acted on his attraction just moments before she had…

She'd be in his position.

Of course, Casey could not commend her on this sudden, seemingly random bout of compassion, since _Casey couldn't know._

So she accepted Casey's wearied expression, her sigh, her obvious annoyance with her.

"Paulie, just go. I'm…going to Em's." The taller girl slammed the door behind her.

Paulie got up, and exited out the back door, where just minutes earlier, Derek and her had been fighting to the death.

As she waited at the bus stop, Derek pulled up against the sidewalk in the Prince. "Hey. Lemme give you a ride."

Paulie scowled.

"Come on, it's the least I can do. I mean, I hit a _girl._"

That was true; he did hit a girl, and not even in a gentle way; her jaw hurt like a bitch. Paulie sighed, opened the door. Pulling on her seatbelt, she took a look at his face.

"How's your head?"

"Throbbing. How's your jaw?"

"About the same."

When he dropped her at her place, he finally spoke up again.

"Thanks for not telling Casey."

Paulie shrugged. "You would have done the same," she said quietly. She shut the car door behind her, and he watched as she got into her house.

They didn't wave goodbye.

He knew she'd be back with Casey by the next day.

That was why they were so perfect.

Even if _he _thought him and Casey would be better.


	3. The Unlikeliest of Friends

He should be happy they broke up.

So why isn't he?

One-shot.

0--0

"So," Paulie began, leaning against the lockers, waiting for Casey as she dug around for her History notes, "I think we should skip first period and have a bout in the janitor's closet."

Casey poked her head out, studying her expression, attempting to figure out if she was joking or not.

"You should know the answer to that one." Casey deadpanned, shutting her locker door.

A slow smirk grew upon the girl's face, her yellow eyes glinting. Pulling a chocolate brown strand from Casey, face, she leaned in close.

Casey fought a smile. "Five minutes, Pauls. I'm not going to be late for class."

"I love compromise," Paulie declared, taking Casey's wrist, leading her to the closet down the hallway where the swimming pool and gym doors were.

In the darkness, Casey whispered, "This is risky, Pauls."

"Well," Paulie said, kissing her neck, "I'm not at all opposed to being open about this, you know."

"Like you've mentioned a million times," commented Casey, kissing her, hands holding her face, "But you know what my answer is, 'cause it's been the same those million times,"

Paulie chose to answer by kissing her—an effective way of shutting her up—and Casey let her have her way (for once).

"I gotta go, Pauls."

Paulie pouted, grabbing her wrist and kissing her again. "It's not even a lunch day for us," she whined. Casey had set up Tuesdays and Thursdays as their designated lunch days; the other three days she made an appearance in the cafeteria, just so she could keep any suspicions low.

Being Casey, she made an entire schedule of when they could spend time together during school (mornings, unless she had some tutoring thing and Friday afternoons, they'd get something to eat or go to her place). Otherwise, Casey was off limits.

Wrapping her arms around her neck, she pulled her close and Casey let out a little sigh, pressing her forehead against hers. "Of course, you had to making leaving a bit complicated."

Paulie simply grinned, kissing her on the cheek and pushed her along.

"Have fun in history," Paulie said, and Casey simply rolled her eyes in reply.

It was a general rule that Casey leave first, Paulie a few minutes later; she preferred it that way, anyway—just so her heart would stop beating so hard and her lips would stop tingling the way they did whenever she kissed that girl; sure, she acted cool about it, acted like Casey didn't send her senses into overload or make her weak in the knees.

Grabbing her bag, she opened the door with a deep breath.

And the first thing she saw was _him, _wet hair in his face, shouldering his hockey bag. He stared at her, and she stared back; she was acutely aware of her heartbeat, aware of his eyes, aware of what he was thinking.

He studied her with those eyes, bitterness rising, adrenaline running through his veins.

He _hated _her.

0--0

She was stealing a smoke at the back of the school during lunch, tapping her knee nervously. Sucking the smoke into her lungs, she closed her eyes, holding it in.

(She was well aware that it was a disgusting habit, and that health-wise it was stupid, especially with pierced lips, but she'd been thinking about taking them out anyway, and really, she didn't care much at the moment.)

She faintly heard footsteps, and hurriedly smashed the cig, popping a peppermint in her mouth. Turning to run in the other direction, she hesitated a moment too late, and what's-his-face, her skills teacher (it was technically her bullshit class; she did her homework that period) clamped his hand on her shoulder.

_Shit._

"Paulette, is it?"

"Paulie," she mumbled.

"Either way, I think we should take a visit down to the principal's office, don't you?"

Paulie didn't respond, and so he took her to Lassiter's. He spoke to the secretary, and she nodded, glancing at her. When he left, she tossed a snarky, bitchy smile her way.

Slumping in the seat, and tilting her head back, she made shapes on the ceiling with her eyes; she used to love that game as a kid, and her kid sister asked her to play it often with her.

Well, used to. Her dad was down in Chicago, and he took Anna with her, and so she only got to see her on Christmases or on (rarely) spring breaks.

"Oh, you're here too," snarked the secretary, "Take your usual seat."

She looked up, and saw _him _there, and his eyes darkened; she looked away. He slumped down in the seat farthest from her, and she could feel his toxic eyes on her, his hate seeping into her veins and causing shivers to run up her spine.

Twenty minutes later, she let out a sigh of relief when Lassiter called her in. He looked vaguely surprised when she nearly ambushed him getting into his office.

Lassiter made the usual snarks about how smoking was bad for her, and that smoking on school grounds had an automatic three day suspension, but since she was new (and had never caused any trouble before) he let her off with a one-day suspension instead.

"I will, however," he warned, "be calling your mother and teachers into a meeting to discuss this further."

"Why?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

"Ms. Landar, you've just earned yourself _three _days—and weekly visits to the guidance counselor."

She was about to argue, but he called Derek in and she bolted—he managed to brush against her.

She felt his eyes on her as she continued scurrying from the office like a fucking _rabbit_; and she was sure he was smirking at her with that stupid fucking smirk and she kind of felt like hitting something right now.

0--0

She wasn't out of trouble for long—the school day ended far too quickly, and Paulie's plan of darting away before Casey found her was thwarted by her loving stepbrother.

"Hey, Casey's looking for you," he said, with that glint in his eyes and smugness rich in his voice.

"I'm sure you put in _such _a good word for me," she snarked. He grabbed her arm—her body stiffened, and she realized in that moment that she was actually _scared _of him. _Him, _Venturi, the annoying smartass who managed to make her feel guilty on a daily basis.

Casey was at her locker, and Derek called, "Found her, Case!"

He shoved her next to his stepsibling and waved, cheerfully wishing them a nice, long chat.

_Fucking asshole,_ Paulie fumed.

The brunette was about to open her mouth, no doubt to spew some crap about how she was disappointed in her, but Paulie cut her off.

"Casey, I really don't want to argue right now," she said tiredly. "Please?" she added weakly.

Casey stared at her, debating on whether or not she would yell at her, and succumbed to the dejected look on the other girl's face; "Fine," she said finally, "But you better not screen your calls, I'm going to call you tonight."

She wanted to ask for a hug, but judging by the look on the elder girl's face, she figured she'd just keep her mouth shut.

"So, um, I'll talk to you later."

Casey nodded crisply; for a moment she wondered why her girlfriend had to be so fucking _maternal _all the damn time, but instantly waved the thought away and knew that Casey was being Casey and was just trying to implement good habits in her, or something.

Half-heartedly she wished Casey would just say _c'mere _in that soft voice and just _fucking _hug her, but Casey whirled away, heading towards the parking lot.

So much for that.

0--0

When she got home, her mother pounced on her, icily making a comment about how her day must have gone well.

"Is it that _girl?" _She said _girl _like it was some toxic word, some dirty word implying corruption and disease; Paulie's eyes flickered to hers, challenge and contempt flaring in her eyes.

"Her name is _Casey_, and no, I'm in deep shit with her, too, thanks for reminding me," she snarled sarcastically.

"I guess you're smart enough to know you're grounded." Her mother said, raising a brow.

"Thanks for not underestimating my intellect," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Intellect? Yeah, sweetie, _that's _a little compromised, since you got caught smoking a cancer stick. And by the way, it's three months. I want you to give me any cigarette you have, and you aren't getting allowance for three months, either."

Paulie rolled her eyes again, and realized how much like her mother she really was; sometimes it was a little irritating.

"I'll leave a chore list for your three days off! My car's _really _needed a good cleaning for a while now!" her mother called after her cheerily.

Paulie's response was her door slamming.

Yeah, it was _really _irritating.

Casey didn't call till eight, and frankly, Paulie was relieved, because it meant she hadn't devised the tortuous idea of giving her the silent treatment.

"So I'm grounded for three months. And I won't get money. And I have to go visit Paul. And my mom and teachers and I are going to have a _meeting_." Paulie offered, hoping that _just _maybe life sucked enough for that one stupid cigarette and maybe Casey would be Sweet Casey.

Casey sighed. "Paulie, I want to take a break."

Paulie sort of sputtered at that, not expecting those words at _all, _and what the hell did she call that little session in the closet that morning?

And her throat was closing up, and her stomach dropped, and she wanted to break the stupid phone; and Casey continued, somehow still able to continue ripping apart her heart, "So…I…Um, well, yeah. I just need some time to think, Pauls. That's all. I mean, I think we're really, really different and…I dunno, Pauls. Maybe we're not right for each other."

Then Casey made some bullshit excuse about how Lizzie needed the phone or whatever, and she managed to let out some strangled remnant of a farewell, and then the phone clicked.

To the silence around her, she whispered what she could barely say. _But I fucking love you, Case. _

0--0

She didn't do chores over the next three days. She ate whatever chocolate or sugar she could find and cried over _The Lion King _and _The Notebook. _

Her mother had plenty to say on the first day, when she saw her daughter slumped on the couch, staring at the TV glassy-eyed.

On the second day, she figured it out after the few grunts Paulie used as answers.

The third day, she made her favorite for dinner and kissed her goodnight.

Her heart made that familiar clench when she realized her little girl wasn't so little anymore; she was growing up.

It made her feel alone.

0--0

Paulie seriously considered faking sick on Friday. But she knew there was going to be some meeting and she might as well go to school before her grades plummeted into C average or some shit; she threw on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved black shirt.

Her mom offered her some toast; she merely grunted and grabbed some breakfast bar, stuffing it in her bag.

"I changed the meeting to Monday," her mother said.

Paulie looked at her, and mumbled thanks before darting out the door to catch the bus.

"Have a good day," her mother said to the emptiness around her. Though she knew today would be the hardest.

Maybe she'd pick up some ice cream on the way home.

0--0

Arriving at school early was terrible. She took all the back ways, took the long way around, just to make sure she wouldn't run into _her, _and if she managed to avoid her all day, maybe she could force that stupid lump down her throat.

Half an hour into first period, though, she grabbed a bathroom pass, going to the bathroom, narrowly hiding her face from the two girls at the mirror. She entered a stall, pressing a palm against the wall.

She would not cry. Absolutely not.

But before she knew it, she felt the wetness on her cheeks, and she bolted from the bathroom, choosing to curl up into the janitor's closet instead (it was painful to go back there, but it was better than that bathroom).

The bell rang, signifying the end of first period, and _shit _her bag was in the classroom still, and she wondered how much her day could get worse.

Her teacher (predictably) gave her a detention, not even caring about her puffy and bloodshot eyes; she took the slip of paper without a word and grabbed her bag.

She managed to steer clear of both Casey and her oh-so-wonderful stepbrother, and she even survived till lunch.

Shit hit the fan when the lunch bell rang. She'd intentionally waited for everyone to vacate the classroom before hightailing it to the library; at least she could hide there, pretending to read.

But for some inexplicable reason, that boy in that _stupid fucking _leather jacket just _had _to be there; and he spied her right off the bat. She started walking backwards, her foot hitting some shelf and knocking it over, causing _everyone _to look up; he opened his mouth and laughed, it echoed in her ears and she wanted to _kill _him.

She ran.

Running while tears are pooling in one's eyes is not a good idea; she hit someone and the force of the blow caused to her fall flat on her back; and he helped her up.

"Are you okay?" Trevor asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," She said hurriedly, knowing the tears were falling now, but she really didn't want to talk to anybody.

"Gotta go," she said, and left before he could even protest.

0--0

The weekend sucked, as she'd expected, and on Monday, she really wasn't looking forward to that stupid meeting.

Her teachers basically said that while she typically turned in her work, and did it well (apparently they could tell she was smart, even if she made stupid choices) she had the amazing talent of not being able to hear the bell ring, and was consequently late.

Or, you know, sometimes she just wouldn't show up at all.

So _that _didn't go so good, and her mother's expression suggested further punishment; though she did make a snarky comment to Lassiter as to why she wasn't informed of this earlier, and he simply sputtered at her.

And then _Paul _came in, clearly rushing. He introduced himself and Paulie just sort of glared at him. Paul had relations to Casey. And Casey was _seriously _off-limits.

"We think Paulie should visit Paul," everyone sort of smirked at this—Like,_ hehe, Paulie and Paul!—_except the two mentioned. Paulie frowned, and Paul just looked like he wanted to get this all over with.

Somehow, her teachers felt that she had _issues _and that she had been exhibiting some worrying behavior (like what? Paulie mused, she wasn't some depressed antisocial freak, she was just _her _and sure maybe she wasn't exactly conventional but she didn't see where the _worrying behavior _came in) and they felt having someone to talk to would help.

Her mother looked a bit peeved at this; annoyed, no doubt, of it being implied she didn't know her own daughter, or that they couldn't talk about serious things.

"I'll be looking forward to speaking with you, Paulette," said Paul.

"_Paulie."_

"Right, sorry. Paulie."

0--0

Tuesday morning, her not-seeing-Casey run had ended; she was talking to some boy, animatedly, and Paulie felt her gut churn.

_Fuck you, Casey._

She tilted her head up, walked past, close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other; Casey looked up. Paulie pretended to not see her and walked down the corridor, hiding a twisted smile.

After school, (despite her mother's orders of _come straight home!) _she walked in, knowing that Casey was going to be there.

_Two can play at this game, Case._

She ordered a strawberry malt, feeling Casey's eyes on her; she refused to give in and stare back, because if she did she'd drop this act in a second and probably do something stupid.

The malt came, and she drank it slowly, her tongue flickering to catch the stray drops from the straw.

She left a four dollar tip, feeling victorious.

Casey watched her the entire time.

0--0

"So," Paul began, "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"I'm not crazy."

"Well, certainly not. But I know high school is stressful—"

"Is there a rule about talking? I mean, do I have to?"

"Well, I suppose not but—"

"Consider this your free time. I'll go my way, you go your way."

"Or, you know, you could talk to me. It doesn't have to be personal."

"Look, I know they think sending me here is like, the best thing to do because apparently I scream _disillusioned lesbian freak, _but seriously—there's nothing wrong."

"So Casey breaking up with you doesn't bother you."

Her head jerked up. "How the fuck do you know about that?"

"Casey _does _talk to me—"

"_What _did she say?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that."

She stood up, grabbing her bag. "You know—" she said, hands shaking, "I really don't need this, so, you know, thanks for nothing."

Casey was sitting on one of the chairs outside Paul's office as she stormed out. The brief moment the two stared at each other was awkward.

"Paulie—"

"He's all yours," she blurted out, and turned round the corner.

0--0

The doorbell rang at ten that night, and her mother was already asleep, so she took a break from the essay she was writing and answered the incessant ringing.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Paulie asked, out of surprise more than spite.

"Look," Derek muttered, "You know as well as I do that I _don't _like you, and I'd really rather be _anywhere _than at your damn doorstep, but Casey won't shut up about you, so you should, you know, come over and talk to her. Or something."

Paulie looked at him suspiciously. "Aren't you supposed to comfort her and get brownie points and then like, score?"

Derek sighed. "I don't know why I'm doing this, so I suggest you get in the damn car before I change my mind."

Paulie grabbed her jacket, not about to argue.

0--0

"Why are you here?" was Casey's first eloquent question when Paulie appeared at her bedroom door, leaning against the frame.

She shrugged. "I've been sworn to secrecy."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Fine, Case. I'm here because a little birdie told me to stop acting like a bitch and tell you what you didn't hear."

She shut the door behind her.

"What didn't you tell me?" asked Casey faintly, her face pale.

Paulie raised a brow. "I," she took a step closer to the girl that was now off her bed and standing up, "love you, you idiot."

"What?" Casey squeaked.

She took her face in her hands, pulling her close to her own, "My heart beats really fast whenever I see you or I think of you or when touch you and your kisses leave me weak kneed and everything I talk or hear or even see, it all relates back to you and yeah, I guess I'm crazy for you." She released Casey from her grasp and shrugged.

"I just needed to tell you that, I guess. So, um, I guess I'll be going, now."

"Paulie," Casey began lightly, carefully.

"You don't need to, you know, feed me comforting words or some shit—"

"Shut up and kiss me."

It took her a moment to process the words—_Did she just say what I thought she said?_—but Casey advanced on her and that was all she needed; she grabbed her close and kissed her, and _god _she had missed those lips

And Casey was pulling her to the bed now, and

_Mmm, _she couldn't think

"Mmm, Casey," those lips on her neck were _seriously _making her mind cloudy, "Casey, hold on for a sec, okay,"

Casey looked bewildered.

"Shh, I'll be back in a sec, okay?"

And she went next door, where Derek was pretending to search for a computer game on his shelf, but she _so _knew he'd been eavesdropping.

"Weak-kneed?" Derek said, when she stood in his room, "Wow, I can't believe Casey fell for –"

She grabbed him in a hug and he kind of squawked at that, _totally _confused as to _how _he was suddenly getting _hugged _by the girl that was supposed to hate him.

Derek gave her a _what the fuck? _look.

"Thank you, Derek."

"Yeah, yeah. This," he pointed to the space between them, "Never happened."

"What never happened?" Paulie called, heading back to Casey.

Casey looked at her, and Paulie just shrugged.

She could explain later.

0--0

Yeah, I know. Most of you want Paulie out of the picture, don't you?


	4. Sick

He's sick of it.

Sick of hearing the giggles at night during their all-too frequent sleepovers, their hushed hisses and moans through his wall. He's sick of her presence, eternally mocking him. He's sick of his father's obliviousness and Nora's denial.

He's sick of seeing them in the mornings, Casey smiling in that way _he _wants to make her smile, Paulie's all too familiar smirk creasing her face. He's disgusted by the glint she gets in her eyes when she's turned on, sick of the way Casey tries to hide her shudder when she touches her.

Casey was supposed to be _his. _Casey was supposed to fall for _him._ It's only a cruel twist of fate; if only he'd told her sooner, if only he'd grown up a bit faster, if only he'd broken past his steely, cocky exterior and taken the chance when it was presented to him.

It's a Monday, and Casey gets home looking entirely too pleased. Paulie isn't in tow, at least, but Derek can easily imagine what's causing the giddy smile on his stepsister's face.

He sneers at her, and she ignores him. The fact that she barely acknowledges him makes his chest twist up; that's been their _thing, _the constant bantering and arguing, the subtle touches and not very subtle insults.

"Why are you so freaking happy today?" he snaps, as Casey hangs her coat on the rack.

"No reason," she says, but he knows better.

"What, did Paulie fuck you extra hard today?" he spits out bitterly.

Casey frowns, and Derek sighs. _Finally. _

"God, Derek. I know you don't like her, but the least you could do is be respectful about it. Besides, the less I'm around you, the better, right?"

She heads up the stairs, and he watches her.

"Right," he whispers miserably.

0--0

After dinner, he hears Casey's conversation, which is filled with bubbly phrases and a sickening honeyed tone, and Derek decides lovesick Casey is what nauseates him the most.

They make plans for the fifty millionth time to go out on Sunday, and Derek suddenly wishes his family was the church-going type.

He turns on his music, loud enough to drown out Casey's _I love you_.

But Casey stops at his door, and says bitchily, "Can you turn that down? I'm trying to talk on the phone."

"Oh," Derek scoffs, "Please, don't let me interrupt your sickening love talk."

Casey rolls her eyes, and says, "I gotta go, Pauls. A certain stepbrother of mine is being an asshole," She pauses, and huge grin crawls across her face.

"I love you too. See you tomorrow."

Derek groans. _Goddammit._

Casey puts a hand on her hip. "What is your problem, Derek?"

"My _problem,_" Derek grumbles, "is the fact that you _have _to act like some lovesick puppy all the damn time. Do you _know _how annoying that is? It's like watching a fucking lifetime special, minus the abusive husband and estranged ex-wives."

It's a complete lie, and Casey buys it, huffing as she bitches at him about how insensitive he is.

Casey's unusually cheery behavior is still unnoticed by the parental units, and Derek wonders if he has to spell it out for them.

But Casey would hate him for that and probably never forgive him, and as much as he wants to get back at her girlfriend, Derek can't stand the idea of Casey hating him. Not ever.

0--0

Tuesday night, Paulie comes over for dinner (again) and stays too damn late for a "study session" which is really a euphemism for a makeout session and heavy groping.

He hears Paulie's whispering and Casey's hushed whimpers, and he'd like nothing more for Nora or George to walk in on them in that exact moment.

It's right at that moment Derek thinks of something. Casey couldn't hate him for spilling the beans about their relationship if she didn't _know_ he was the cause of it.

He smirks, and heads down the stairs, finding Nora. She's busy cleaning the kitchen, and Derek leans against the counter, pausing for effect before saying anything.

"Yes, Derek? Do you need something?" Nora asks.

"Casey was wondering if you could bring up some cookies and milk." He says idly.

Suspicion makes its way across Nora's face. "Why are you asking for her?"

"Come on, Nora. Do I look like the kind of guy that would pass up free cookies? Besides, I gotta get something out of the car."

Ultimately, Nora falls for it, and he hides a smirk before grabbing his keys and exiting the house.

0--0

Casey is a fast learner. It's one of the traits Paulie most admires in her; not to mention the sex is better and better every time.

She's at her peak, and Casey makes her beg a bit, because Casey has a little bit of a fetish for submissiveness, and, burying her hand the brunette's tangled hair, Paulie lets out a long sigh as her body relaxes.

Casey kisses her then, like she always does when they're finished; it's one of those long, gentle kisses that makes tingles run up and down her body.

She hears the smash of glass on the floor, and they both jump, looking into the shocked eyes of Casey's mother.

"Oh my God," Nora chokes out dazedly, gripping the doorknob so tight her knuckles are white.

"Mom—"

Nora ignores Casey's futile attempt at reaching out, mainly because Nora doesn't really want to look at her daughter anymore in the compromising position, with red lips and a flushed face and tangled hair. The door slams.

And the first thing Paulie says is, "I can't believe we forgot to lock the fuckin' _door._"

0--0

The last thing Casey wants to do is go downstairs and face her mother. It's cowardly, she knows, and she knows she has to deal with it sooner or later, but does she really have to do it _now?_

So she cleans up the mess on the floor first, just to drag out the inevitable.

But Nora hears the commotion, and at the foot of the stairs, she says quietly, "I think we need to talk."

"But the mess—"

"The mess can wait," Nora says, a little sharply, and Paulie, who's cowered beside Casey, flinches.

0--0

Paulie's never been in the basement before, and it's a little awkward, but Paulie supposes it's the only private place in the house.

Nora asks all the usual questions. _How long has this been going on? How long have you been…intimate?_

She lectures them too, about how deceiving them for three months was an incredibly selfish thing to do, and taking advantage of sleepovers was, at most, incredibly immature.

The good news: Nora isn't exactly pissed that Casey's dating a _girl_. The bad news: Nora's a little pissed about their sex life, in which Nora believes should be nonexistent.

Neither of them choose to comment on that, because it's already humiliating enough to have an parent _know _about their child's sex life.

Then Nora asks the worst question: "Casey, are you gay?"

It's the one thing Casey's been struggling with, the fact that she can't label herself accurately so she can have her life all neat and tidy likes she's used to.

"No," Casey says, very carefully, "I'm not sure what I am." Which is honest for the most part, but Paulie is all too aware of the tension that the question's causing.

Nora sighs, a little shakily. "I have to admit, Casey, this _is _a shock. And after I tell George about this," Casey winces, and Nora clarifies, "I'm going to _omit _a few things, of course, but we will be implementing a few rules. Does that sound fair?"

And really, what can either of them say except _yes? _Casey was lucky Nora was willing to accept it.

Casey walks Paulie to the door, fully aware of Nora's eyes on them. They can only exchange pecks on the cheek (Nora's been scarred enough) and smile nervous little smiles at each other.

And then Casey closes the door.

0--0

Really short, I know. I feel like I was a bit lazy with these updates, especially with the 13th chapter of _Ghost. _

Eh. Being a student is really sucking up all my time.

I hope you like it anyway.

-B.


	5. Reality

Things were never quite the same at the McDonald-Venturi house after Nora learned of her daughter's affair with Paulie. It wasn't disgust or loathing that took hold of the family, but complete shock. Whoever expected _Casey, _with her color-coded folders, and neat, compartmentalized way of living to ever break the boundaries and rules by falling in love with a _girl?_

Edwin's eyes widened and nearly fell out, it seemed, when Casey made the announcement. Marti didn't seem to care one way or the other; it didn't concern her and therefore it meant nothing. Lizzie's face twisted into an odd mask of emotions—betrayal, shock, anger.

Only Derek seemed to be the angriest of the whole family, amber eyes burning holes into its targets; they'd stopped fighting, and it was killing him. Paulie had stolen Casey from him, and instead of being viewed as the occasional good guy who elicited the most fire from her, Derek was reduced to the label of _annoying brother. _

_He wasn't her _fucking _brother._

Something had to give, and he sure as shit wasn't gonna lose to a _girl. _

Derek didn't have a plan yet, but somehow, _somehow _he'd win Casey McDonald back.

Mark his words.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey had taken to coming over to Paulie's since the family knew the truth; there was less privacy now. Nora gave her that withering look every time she mentioned going to her place, but there was really nothing to say about the situation; Casey was going to do what she wanted with the girl.

It was uncharacteristically Casey, and Nora didn't like that one bit.

Afternoon romps were common, but not all the pair liked to do. Sometimes they would simply read in the same room together, and nothing needed to be said.

Like right now, for example—Casey watched Paulie as she read a Bronte novel, unaware of anything happening around her. It was times like this when Casey understood why she liked the girl so much; no one else became so _involved _in a book.

She untangled herself from her yoga position and tiptoed to Paulie's side. The girl didn't even flinch.

"_Boo!"_

Suddenly the petite girl was all angles, arms and legs as she shot up ten feet in the air and screamed, well, like a girl. She was still shaking away the jitters of being startled as she glared at Casey, informing her of how mean that act was.

Casey plopped backwards onto the bed gracefully, arching an eyebrow of suggestion.

"Hm," Paulie said, a cocky smile sweeping across her face. She sauntered over to her dancer's physique and the romp began.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Derek didn't have time to think about his plan to win Casey back. Because on a certain Friday night, at a party Casey was most certainly at, everything went straight to hell.

The music was loud, swirling up around him, welcoming him in, taking him to the punch bowl that was most certainly _not _filled of punch, and possessing his hand to take a cup. He saw some people from school, some people from around town, and even a hobo or two. But his heart stopped when he saw Casey.

He scowled, then took a second red cup. It burned as it went down his throat, but he needed the edge taken off, needed the anger quelled before he did something stupid. There were already three blondes circling him like sharks, touching his arm, cooing words of nonsense, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off that damn stepsister of his.

The story starts to get fuzzy after the third cup, but Derek remembers shouting and the telltale sound of a fist mashing against bone. It's a scene Casey is involved in, that much he knows, but Derek is far too gone to stop it.

Then he sees her, walking toward him, hair sweeping across her face as she reaches for another drink.

She's oddly pretty like that, quiet and subdued.

"She's mad," the girl slurs.

They leave the party, taking three or four more drinks with them, forcing them back as they engage in drunken conversation.

And he doesn't know who does it first, but one minute they're talking about how much they hate each other and the next they're kissing, frantically removing clothing, needing contact with their counterpart's skin.

_This is bad. This is wrong. Why can't I stop? This is so wrong. _It chants like a mantra in his head, but he _can't _stop, because one little part of him knows he's destroying what he's wanted to all along.

He doesn't enjoy it, and he doubts she does.

When Casey wakes up, and sees her naked form in front of her, she panics. When she sees _Derek, _equally as naked, beside her, she feels sick.

She just cheated on _Paulie_. With her _stepbrother._

She gets dressed and leaves, but not before covering him with a blanket.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Paulie is more than a little nervous when Casey doesn't call her for two days. She's been waiting by the phone, and every time she calls, her mother answers, more exasperated than the last time she answered.

Something's wrong. She can _feel _it.

On Monday, Casey goes to school. And Paulie smiles at her, but it's a little forced. She sees the black circles around her eyes, and that gnawing feeling in her stomach intensifies. Casey doesn't even say goodbye, she just turns around and heads to class like she hadn't seen Paulie at all.

It's not until the end of the day that Paulie sees her again, and her stare is just as empty and blank as it was during their first meeting. When she finally says something, it comes out as a choked whisper. "I need to talk to you."

They take a walk down to the park, where a trail leads them away from visitors.

"Okay, Case," Paulie says, wringing her hands, "What's going on?"

With that simple question, Casey promptly bursts into tears.

She wipes her tears away fiercely, and stares at the ground while she talks.

"I got really, really drunk Friday night."

"Is this about that fight? It's really not that big of a deal, I mean nothing happened…"

Casey just looks up, sniffling. "Derek got really, really drunk too, Pauls." She's getting weepy again and it's hard to get the words out.

Paulie's body suddenly turns cold, and she already knows what Casey is going to say.

"It's not like we meant for it to happen, we were arguing and yelling and being stupid and then somehow we started kissing and…"

It's odd, Paulie thinks, when you want to take someone into your arms and comfort them, but you want to slap them at the same time. She neglects to do both. By this point she is comfortably numb, and she can watch Casey.

"I think you need to go home and get some sleep. And when you wake up, you should make an appointment with a counselor." Paulie says this in eerie calm, like it really doesn't bother her that Casey is falling to pieces and her stepbrother is the cause of this whole mess.

"I'm going to go home and do some homework." She says gently.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It doesn't hit her until she sees Derek. She hunts him down at Smellie Nellie's. An invisible force rams her chest and leaves a hole, and the pain is so great she nearly cries out.

"_You." _It's a guttural tone, something raw, that rips from her mouth. Derek looks up, paling.

"How could you do that? What, getting all the girls wasn't enough for you, _Derek? _You had to take her from me too? Do you hate me that much? Do you?" Words spill out, hysteria stringing the sentences together, and she takes steps with every breath.

"It wasn't like that!"

"Sure it wasn't, Derek! You pride yourself on getting all the girls, so what, you decided to go after the one who wouldn't ever fall for you?"

It's suddenly quiet.

Because it's quite obvious Casey _has _fallen for him.

Paulie was just second best.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The break up is instigated by a single phone call.

"Case, we're done."

"I know."

There's no talk of being friends, no talk of the future. It's simply an end.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She sees them, months later, when the pain has dissolved to a dull ache and she can get through the day without thinking of Casey every second.

Casey's wide smile falters a bit when she sees Paulie.

Yeah, exes can really dampen the mood, she thinks wryly.

"Hey," she says coolly, while picking a box of crackers off the shelf.

She doesn't even like crackers.

Casey still has that fake smile on her face. "So, um, what have you been up to?"

Paulie looks at her, eyes locked with the sapphires she loved so much. "Come on, Case. Don't try that small talk shit with me, you know I hate it."

Derek interjects, loping down the aisle with marshmallow fluff in his hand, held up high victoriously. "Told ya I'd find it, Space Case."

He doesn't see her at first, because Casey can do that to a girl. Or a guy.

Paulie is all too aware of the bruise on his neck and the way their hands fit together.

"Gonna go." She gives some half-assed wave as she walks out the door, abandoning the grocery shopping altogether.

Casey goes after her.

"Paulie! I'm sorry. You have no idea."

If this was a dream, Casey would take her in, and kiss her senseless. If this was a dream, Casey would say _I love you. _

It's not. It's reality.

**/fin. **


	6. VIDEO!

My BFF4EVS Paige is making a vid to this fic!

You can see the preview here: .com/watch?v=Ura8W99ambY&feature=channel

Also, check out Vouloir if you're craving some more Paulie. CC:


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